


Just Like A Fairytale

by subspacepastry



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, First Meetings, Meet-Cute, Modern Era, Musicians, Roommates, Writer's Block, Writers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 13:18:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6567898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subspacepastry/pseuds/subspacepastry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Writing is hard when you have little to no inspiration, and you’ve been stuck at a giant creativity block for a couple months. About to give up your book, a new neighbor moves in, and just like magic, it’s opened the floodgates of creativity for you. Too bad romance doesn’t normally happen like the books… right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Like A Fairytale

**Author's Note:**

> Personally, I believe this was one of my best fics on my blog~!

_Their eyes met. Their hearts beat as one. Nobody knew if you could ever find a love like this, but when their hands brushed against eachother reaching for the door, it was like the gods themselves designated the two as soulmates._

_Hearts race, faces flush. Love was finally found when there formerly was none._

_“Hi.” She said, almost melodically and pure to his ears, almost melting within the fire forged between two lovers at first sight.  
_

_Holding the car door open for her, she climbed in, smiling as the man wa-_

* * *

“Nope.” You groaned, crushing the paper and tossing it into the trashcan, already overflowing with other papers and bad ideas you’ve written.

You laid your head down on your desk, absentmindedly scribbling lines on another paper, attempting to think.

‘Maybe… they meet in a jail cell?’ You wondered, desperately grasping for some kind of idea to expand upon. You’d finally found someone willing to take on you as a new writer for their company, but you need to have a book by the end of the year, or you’re cut from the publishing company.

“ Y/N, you should get some rest. You’ve been up since six, it’s almost morning.” Connix spoke, quiet and concerned for her friend as she left to go to her own bedroom.

You sat up slowly, looking outside the window and listened to the soft city sounds of Brooklyn nightlife from your apartment.

Looking down, the cars and streetlights below illuminated the night as you stood up, turning off your desk light and laying in bed.

Your book is still empty.

* * *

The alarm blared as you practically knocked it off of the table, groaning and stretching as you forced yourself out of bed, trying to avoid looking at your desk.

“ Y/N, I’m heading to the police station. Think you could pick up some stuff for later? I left a list on the table.” Connix called from the living room as you changed.

“Sure thing.” You yelled back, pulling on some jeans and an old hoodie you practically stole from your ex-boyfriend.

“Oh! And don’t even think about that book! You’ve been screwing up your health over this thing, just take one day off!” She continued, straightening out her uniform and her badge.

“Ugh! Fine, Connix! One day!” You replied, brushing your hair as you bid your friend goodbye.

* * *

You left your apartment, taking note of the moving truck outside.

Two men passed by you with a couch as you smiled at them, almost swearing they smiled and nodded back while moving the furniture into the apartment next to you.

You continued your walk, until your eyes fixated on one particular person coming out of said apartment.

He was muscular, tanned and handsome as he carried boxes into the apartment. A guitar was strapped to his back, his dark hair ruffled by the Brooklyn breeze as he hummed a casual tune, with a lilt in his voice.

“That’s the last box.” One of the moving men stated as the man smiled.

He waved them goodbye as he took his guitar off of his back. “Thanks again, guys!” His face formed into a small smile, glancing to you as he nodded, locking eyes as a strange electric shock was felt between the two of you.

He bent down picking up the last box and going into the apartment, still with his charming smirk.

You blushed as creativity lock in your brain burst apart, flowing out one good idea after the other, whipping out your notepad and writing them down.

Ideas of best friends and neighbors, musicians and love stories, coupled with an almost endless stream of ways to meet, possible dates, drama, conflict and resolution, cliched fantasies that you wish you came up with earlier in the year.

You went on your merry way to the market, still writing down ideas haphazardly, disregarding Connix’s scolding and preparing for a whole night of writing.

* * *

“ Y/N, I’m back! What are you up t- woah.” She uttered, looking at your hunched over form.

“Connix! Look, I know you said not to write today, but I just got this huge burst of ideas! I am on a roll!” You smiled, papers thrown around the room, uneven stacks of paper on the desk, and your trusty notepad completely covered with inked ideas.

“…Okay, fine. Since you’re actually on a huge writing high, I’m gonna make coffee.” She sighed, as your back straightened.

“Oh! Could you make me one! I’m gonna be at this for a while.” She flashed a thumbs up as you smiled, turning back to your writing.

You continued your spree, the pile of papers growing as Connix handed you a mug, plopping herself down on your bed.

“So, what caused this whole miracle?” She asked, gesturing to your desk as you organized, before grabbing your coffee and swirling your chair around to face her.

“I dunno, when this new neighbor moved in, I was just struck. The floodgates just broke open and I got so many ideas.” You spoke, sipping your hot drink as your roommate exclaimed.

“Oh! He was cute, wasn’t he?”

“Connix, shush! It’s been like, one day. He has a guitar and like, I had this idea of a musician meeting the protagonist in this cutesy fashion. Like, they run into eachother, and it’s just adorable and cute and ugh. Maybe she reads his song lyrics and it’s plain sweet.”

She grinned, as you sighed. “It’s not like that. I don’t even know him, I just got really good ideas.”

“Uh-huh, sure.” She teased, as you shook your head, downing your coffee, spending a few hours talking and joking, until the both of you headed to bed.

You finished a few chapters of your book that night.

* * *

It had been a couple months, and you decided to take a small break after your writing high, just taking time for yourself before you went back to work.

“Hey, I’m gonna go type on the balcony, so don’t assume I got kidnapped like last time.” You called, carrying a mug of coffee, your papers, and your laptop as Connix groaned.

“That was one time! I was still in the academy!” She whined, as you laughed, taking your laptop out onto the small New York balcony, complete with hanging plants, a nice cushioned bench, and a coffee table.

You sighed contentedly, placing the mug on the table and sitting down, pulling your legs beside you as the computer turned on.

You began typing, looking at your papers as you heard a sliding noise next to you open, your cute neighbor sitting on the windowsill and strumming absentmindedly.

You glanced at him, his eyes closed as he hummed a soft tune, mumbling words to the melody every now and again.

You breathed shakily, calming yourself down and continuing your story, sipping softly from your mug as you focused.

Unbeknownst to you, however, the man opened his eyes every so often, watching you work under the New York sunrise, beaming softly, illuminating your features like an angel wearing yoga pants and an old high school t-shirt, yet still like a woman radiating beauty.

He smiled, taking his notebook and writing down your features, incorporating them into his haphazard hums and transforming them to songs as you worked, focusing on describing his features for your story character.

_He sat, leaning back at the window, strumming his guitar and thinking of that girl. That fleeting love, that one that got away. The one that shared a sly glance as she passed him by._

_He ran his hands over the strings, humming and wondering, praying that maybe… just maybe, he’ll see her again. Hoping that in this big city, he’d be deserving of a miracle and see that girl again, and just have one more chance to try and win her heart._

_Oh, he’d be ready. He knew, in some odd, weird fashion he’d see her again. Maybe due to fate? Destiny? Just pure luck?_

_He smiled, strumming a beautiful melody, looking to the empty balcony across him, pretending that the woman was there._

You finished half of the book so far.

* * *

It was done. 

It had been months of typing and fantasizing, listening to the music of your neighbor on the balcony, but it was done.

“Hey, I’m heading to the publishing firm! I’ll be back soon!” You called.

Connix grinned, cheering for you. “Alright, good luck Y/N! I’m rooting for you!” You grinned, throwing your laptop carrier over your shoulder and grabbing your stapled chapter pages.

You burst out of the door, practically running down to the elevator and bouncing in your place excitedly as it went down floor by floor.

As it stopped, you burst out of the elevator, only to knock into another person, papers flying everywhere as the two of you fell.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry! I didn’t see you there!” You exclaimed, looking over to the person that you knocked over.

It was your neighbor, scratching the back of his head as he looked at you. “It’s fine, we didn’t know we’d run into eachother. Here, let me help you with that.” He smiled, as you sat up, grabbing bunches of papers, until noticing a few papers that weren’t yours. You decided to sneak a glance, surprised at the words written on the papers.

 _She’s got eyes that say a thousand words._  
She’s got lips to make you stutter with every verse.  
She’s got a smile to make your heart race,  
And my heart would run many the miles for the chase.

 _And my poor heart_  
Knows we’re far apart  
She’s so close to my heart and still,  
I only see her from my windowsill.

You gulped, looking up at him as he blushed as wildly as you did, staring at one of your chapters.

“Ahem, so… Y-Your song. It’s really nice.” You mumbled as you traded papers, hugging your manuscript to your chest.

“Hey, you’re my neighbor, aren’t you?” He asked, after a brief, awkward silence.

“Yeah, I am. I’ve, heard you play when I worked on the balcony. You’re really good.” You smiled awkwardly as he pulled his guitar case over his shoulder.

“Thanks, and, your writing is incredible. It’s… just wow.” You smiled, nodding as a ‘thank you.’

“So, I uh… I never got your name.” He noted, as you smiled.

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N. I don’t know your name either, even though we’ve been living next door for practically a year now.” He chuckled, shoving a hand into his pocket.

“It’s Poe Dameron. Just, call me Poe.” He smiled, looking at your manuscript, then back to you.

“Sorry, again for running into you. I was heading to my publishing firm.”

“Oh, that’s great!” He spoke, cheerfully, biting his lip. “So, oh, I don’t know when you’ll be available, Y/N , but, we should meet up sometime after you meet your publisher. Maybe grab a coffee or something?”

You smiled shyly, running a few fingers through your hair. “That… That would be great. I’d like that.”

The two of you nodded, pink dusting each of your cheeks. “So, um… Good luck, Y/N.”

“Yeah, thanks Poe. I’ll… see you after my meeting.” The two of you walked off, grinning from ear-to-ear like schoolkids.

It’s funny, almost too coincidental that the two of you happened to meet in the same way as your book. Love never really was like a cliche, complete with meet-cutes and that fabled spark when two eyes meet.

But maybe, in some lucky way, be it fate, destiny, or just plain coincidence, it was absolutely magical.

Almost like the beginning of a fairytale.


End file.
